


Two Lumps of Sugar And Tea

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Caffeine, F/M, gets some angst, happy endings, starts with fluff, then fluff again, they have coffee a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Belle and Rumplestiltskin had coffee together. (Dark Castle, Storybrooke, Season 4a, Season 5a, Future.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Lumps of Sugar And Tea

  1. _Dark Castle_



            The castle was strangely quiet, which normally meant the maid was asleep - or she was up to something. Since Belle’s employment of sorts, she was constantly humming, or talking, or making things fall out of place. It was a nice change from the silence he was used to, but he didn’t tell her that. The hour had grown late, and he surmised that she was asleep, though frequently she’d begun to say goodnight before going to the room he’d provided her.

            Rumplestiltskin heard a small cough. Belle was leaning against the doorway, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “How long have you been standing there?” he asked quickly, slamming the book he’d been pouring over shut.

            “Just moments, really,” she assured him, taking a step towards the table in the middle of the room.

            “It’s late,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be asleep? You have chores to do in the morning.”

            “I…” Belle drifted off, ignoring his remarks, looking at the myriad of ingredients on his desk, the closed spell book. “Are you making a potion?”

            Rumplestiltskin snickered. “Not your business.”

            She tilted her head, raising an unimpressed eyebrow and taking another step towards him. “By these ingredients… a memory potion?”

            There was a note of awe in her voice, and a hint of pride that she’d figured it out. When he didn’t immediately correct her, a smile split across her face. She had a lovely smile, not that he’d tell her that. “I was right,” she said, clapping her hands together.

            With a snap of his fingers, the clutter on the desk was gone. Belle’s smile disappeared, her eyes meeting his disapprovingly. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, a small pout at her lips.

            This was honestly terrible behavior for a maid. If he had half a brain, he’d just send her to her room. Before he could threaten it, she began to talk again. “What was the potion for? A deal? Or for yourself?”

            “It’s… complicated,” he replied, truthfully. A deal he had made needed to be undone, but a memory potion on a banshee was more complex than one he could give to a mere mortal.

            Belle’s eye brightened. “I can help!”

            There was only a table separating them now, and he couldn’t help but quickly admire how the blue of her dress brought out the clear blue of her eyes.

“I do believe you’re here to clean my clothes, not cast spells,” Rumplestiltskin said dismissively, waving his hand towards the door and hoping she would leave him be. He couldn’t be sure of what his mouth would say when Belle was in the room. She turned, walking back towards the door, then stopped.

            “Do you ever sleep, Rumplestiltskin?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

            He was caught off guard by the question. Staring at the bare table, he tapped his fingers slowly before replying. “No.”

            Belle’s brow furrowed, and she looked worried. “Aren’t you tired?”

            Oh, he was.

            “Dark Ones don’t sleep, dear.”

            She nodded at that fact, taking it in. “Can’t I stay up with you? These nights must be lonely.”

            They were.

            “I guess I don’t have a good reason to not let you stay,” he said, “but I still expect the house to be free of dust by noontime tomorrow.”

            “Of course,” she said, in a serious tone of voice, stepping back towards the table. She looked at it expectantly, and he waved his fingers, the ingredients returning, along with two cups of steaming liquid.

            “Is this tea?” Belle asked, picking up a cup after giving him a look to make sure it was intended for her.

            “No,” he said, “Coffee. It doesn’t get popular here for a while, but it helps people stay up, so I’m told. You’ll need your energy if you truly intend to stay awake.”

            He often alluded to being able to see the future, but Belle had yet to question it. Instead, she took a cautious sip, making an unpleasant face. “You don’t like it?” he asked.

            “Heavens, no,” Belle said, opening and closing her mouth as if trying to rid it of the taste. “It’s terribly bitter.”

            “I can fetch sugar,” he said, taking a long sip from his own cup. The sharpness did not affect him one bit, but someone as sweet as Belle likely needed something more honeyed.

            “It’s not worth curing, really,” Belle said, setting the cup back on the table. “Why don’t you just tell me what the problem is here?”

            So he explained to her, in the vaguest of details, his situation. She described a book where she’d read about banshees, and he procured it, pulling it from the library he’d provided her. Belle flipped the pages to the one on banshee memories and she poured over it, helping him tweak the potion to be what it needed to be. It was a long process, and it wouldn’t be done until the sun began to rise. He noticed Belle’s eyes beginning to close and her voice grew quiet with exhaustion, and snapped a chair into the room.

            “Sit,” he said, and she obeyed, but still kept a close watch on his actions, making sure he was being careful. It was like she was the teacher, not the student.

            He snapped the fireplace near her into action, and when it was time to let the potion simmer, he glanced over at her, finding her head against her shoulder, her hair splayed out across the chair, her eyes closed in rest. Rumplestiltskin was, for once, at a loss. He didn’t know if her should move her to her room, or simply produce a blanket to cover her while she slept. He didn’t want the maid to be confused when she woke up, but he didn’t want her to be upset with using magic to move her. For living in a castle practically crawling with magic, Belle typically did not enjoy when it was used on her.

            Sighing, he felt a blanket appear in his hands. It was soft as a feather but the perfect level of warmth, and he gently folded it over her small body, hoping the dreams Belle was having were pleasant ones.

  1. _Storybrooke_



            Everything about this world was different, and she wanted to see all of it. It was all new, and a little strange, but Belle intended to master this world as quickly as possible. The diner was something she understood very quickly, and she smiled as Rumplestiltskin slid into the seat opposite hers. She couldn’t believe that after countless years of being locked up, they were finally together, and she loved him and he loved her back.

            “Did you order?” he asked her, glancing over at the menu above the counter. “I can cook for us at my - our home, if you want.”

            His house had immediately become hers, which made Belle blush to think about, how quickly they’d fallen into living together, like they should have done all those years ago. “Nobody’s been over yet,” Belle replied with a shrug. “And I still haven’t tried ‘French Fries’.

He smirked at that, but Belle was determined to conquer the Granny’s menu one meal at a time. Extending her hand to cover his, she asked, “Did everything go okay with - Regina?”

            The name still made her shudder. He shrugged, looking around the diner. “Just as well as I expected,” he said.

They’d spent the day arm in arm, touring Storybrooke, but he had to meet with that woman to finalize something. Belle spent an hour or so on her own, trying out the different machines in the house, and used the phone - which was a curious but effective decide - to agree to meet him the diner. Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes met hers again, a smile playing at his lips. “That’s a nice color on you,” he said, his voice kind.

            Belle glanced down at the green dress. “Well, you picked it,” she said, her smile matching his. Clothing had magically appeared, quite literally, in a closet in his household. Clothes were different in this land, but Belle loved brushing her hands against the different fabrics, trying on the new outfits and shoes. She especially loved the new shoes. Rumple looked different here, his features human, his clothes sharp and sophisticated. It was, perhaps, the strangest difference, but she’d immediately recognized him, and his personality was the same, no matter the outward appearance.

            “I’ll have to teach you how the Internet works,” he said, “And you can order your own clothing.”

Belle leaned forward, eager to hear what that was, when Granny arrived at their table. “On the house,” she said, slamming a mug by Rumple, then gently setting one down by Belle. “You were here at 6am, and now it’s almost midnight. Been a long day?”

            Belle shrugged, glancing up at the woman who had treated her so kindly, but her lover with hostility. She’d have to ask Rumple what he had done to her in their intertwined pasts. “Just, eager to see everything,” Belle answered honestly, and the woman chuckled a little.

            “Not much to see here, but I’m glad you’re taking in the sights,” she said, leaving their presence to visit the next table.

            Belle looked at the drink in front of her, then at the dish of sugar packets in front of her. “I think I remember this, from your castle,” she said. “Coffee.”

            “Yes,” Rumple said, taking a sip of his, “And if I recall, you didn’t like it very much.”

            Belle narrowed her eyes at the mug, then ripped open several sugar packets, dumping them into the coffee and stirring it around with a spoon quickly.

            “That might be too -”

            Belle took a sip before he could finish his thought. She sputtered, putting the mug down quickly. “Too sweet,” she said quietly, using a napkin to wipe off her mouth.

            He laughed, but quickly stifled it when she glared. “It’s because Granny’s brews coffee terribly,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll buy a coffee maker for the house, if you want to try different kinds.”

            “I think I’m quite done with coffee,” Belle said firmly, pushing the mug away and calling to Granny for an iced tea.

            When the iced tea was delivered, and a late night snack of a plate of french fries ordered, Belle bit her lip, watching Rumple. She had always known they would find each other - True Love didn’t just disappear, of course, but they were both here, and they were both free, and they were together.

            “Tell me more about your son,” she said quietly.

            Rumple stared back at her, a far off look in his eyes. “Where did we leave off last night?”

            He’d promised her to tell her the whole story, and the previous night, they’d laid in bed together, her cozied up to him, and he told her in a low, melodic voice about the Ogre Wars and a prophecy and a son. She’d fallen asleep with the rise and fall of his chest, his words carrying over to her dreams.

            “With what the seer told you,” Belle prompted.

            “Right,” he said, continuing on with the story.

            Belle hoped he’d never stop telling her stories.

_III. Playing House_

            She was twirling her wedding ring around her finger, telling him about her day. He found his focus was on the flashing diamond ring, and not on what she was saying, he jumped when her hand slammed onto the dinner table.

            “Rumple,” she said, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

            “Belle,” he returned, looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to scold him for being distant. Since their honeymoon, he’d been managing to find more and more ways to not spend time with her to work on things that needed to be done without her knowledge. They’d just had dinner, but he barely said a word as she chattered on about the library. He loved listening to her talk, but his mind was with the Snow Queen and the pirate and his plan that she knew nothing of.

            “What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes trying to read his face, to know what he was hiding. “You’re distracted.”

            “I am, I’m sorry,” he admitted, the idea of confessing the whole truth flashing in front of him and then escaping his mind. “Just a long day.”

            His wife sighed, reaching for his dinner plate and stacking it on top of hers. “I’ll do the dishes, make you a cup of coffee, and we can talk about it, okay?”

            “Let me do the dishes,” he said, reaching for them from her, and she reluctantly handed them over.

            “Work on the coffee,” he instructed, kissing the top of her head and beginning the absent process of scrubbing and drying the plates. Rumplestiltskin knew intuitively that he could easily snap his fingers and have the dishes be spotless and back up in the cabinet, but he also knew that Belle didn’t like when he used magic in the house. Of course, she didn’t complain when more of her favorite shampoo appeared in the bathroom, or when her favorite shoes’ scuffs were suddenly cleaned, but dishes and cooking were things she wanted done traditionally. For someone who used to be a maid who didn’t clean much, she liked her home with a personal touch now.

            They both worked in silence, Belle finding two mugs and pouring coffee from the machine she’d initially resisted letting him buy. Her cup was mostly cream and a little sugar, but she knew just how to make his the way he liked it - black, with a touch of cream, no sugar. She always wrinkled her nose watching him drink it, questioning how he could like the taste, but to a degree, he just liked seeing her baffled by something as simple as coffee preference.

            When the plates were dried and put up, and the coffee was fresh and waiting on the table, he sat back in his seat across from Belle. She reached her hands over to cover his.

            “What is going on?” she asked, and he could sense her desperation to know why he’d been detaching himself from her. It wasn’t hard for him to avoid her during the day, what with her dedication to restoring the library to its full potential, and the Charming’s asking her to babysit every other night.

            It was all his fault, of course. Belle was wonderful, beautiful, and trying _so_ hard to be everything for him. Rumplestiltskin saw her try every single day. But he wouldn’t let her be. When he was finally separated from the dagger, finally free of the curse, nothing would stand in his way from loving her honestly and courageously. But Rumplestiltskin knew he was inherently a coward, inherently wrong for her. He almost felt like telling her to go, to free herself of the beast she’d married. But he loved her too much to let her go.

            It’d all be fixed, soon, anyway, and she would see that he’d been right to not tell her about this, and it was all with her best interest at heart. Instead of telling her about the muddled and lethal plot to cleave himself from the Dark curse, he took a long sip of coffee, smiling at her as he set the mug back on the table.

            “You do make a perfect cup of coffee, Mrs. Gold.”

            She smiled demurely. “Thank you. But you’re avoiding my question.”

            “I guess… I just feel guilty. With Elsa coming back. About my past,” he said, the lie easily coming to him.

            “Oh, _Rumple,_ ” Belle’s soft smile fell to something of sadness mixed with understanding. “That’s your _past_ , not who you are anymore. And you’re trying to help them, we all are. They’ll get home. I know it.”

            He nodded, unconvinced, staring at the table. He felt Belle get up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Hey,” she said softly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here.”

            “I know,” he said, turning and feeling her bury her head in his shoulder. They stayed like that for a moment, and he whispered something he’d often confessed to her, “But I still don’t know why you stay with me.”

            Belle crouched down, that damned look of genuine compassion in her eyes. “Because I love you, Rumple. I married you,” she said, holding up her left hand, a laugh crinkling the edge of her voice.

            “I love you, too,” Rumplestiltskin said, bending to meet her in an embrace that was long overdue. He never wanted to let her go, but something in the back of his mind screamed that he would lose her again. She was nervous she’d lose him - she _had_ lost him, and he was certain she feared some villain or other realm would call to him and steal him away from her.

            The hug ended, and Belle stood up, smoothing out her dress. “Are you sure that’s the only thing bugging you?”

            An invitation, a way to tell her the facts she had to sense he was hiding. He denied her.

            “That’s it,” he said, staring at the ring on his hand, avoiding her piercing gaze.

            Belle sighed a little, her eyes raising towards the ceiling as if she was asking a god above for help. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then smiled again. “Why don’t we head back to our room?” she asked, her meaning not misunderstand from the lilt in her voice on the last word.

He wasn’t one to disagree when she asked and they made their way there, layers clothing disappearing at various stops along the way.  Later that night, with just thin blankets separating them, Belle whispered, “Why don’t you not go to the shop tomorrow morning, and we can spend all day like this?”

            He paused for a moment too long, and he heard her sigh, turning her body to face away from him. “What about the library, sweetheart?” he whispered, and she gave a short laugh.

            “I guess that’s where I’ll be instead of with you,” she said, and he reached for her, pulling her back towards him.

            “Of course I’d rather be here with my wife than at the shop,” he murmured into her neck, kissing her slowly, making her gasp and turn back to him.

            “Good,” she whispered simply, falling asleep in his arms soon after.

            Rumplestiltskin didn’t sleep easily anymore, and his mind tossed and turned the ways he could still get the Sorcerer's Hat to it’s maximum level from home. He had the pirate’s heart in his possession still, and he could likely sneak away from Belle in a few hours. She was not a light sleeper, and she wouldn’t notice if his side of the bed was empty while he snuck behind her back to accomplish a goal she had no idea he had.

            It would all be okay when he wasn’t cursed. He just knew it.

_Part IV. Far From Home_

            The diner was empty, and given the time of night and the circumstances of the town, that wasn’t surprising. When Belle pushed the door open, Granny was counting the cash register, but quickly waved Belle in.

            “What’s going on, my dear?” she asked, look at her from lowered glasses. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

            “Or a bear,” Belle said dryly. “Or a Dark One or two.”

Granny suddenly gasped, dropping the change she was holding. Belle turned her head, seeing Rumple walk in after her.

            “Is he - do you want him here with you, Belle?” Granny asked, her hand drifting behind her to what Belle was sure was a concealed weapon.

            Belle nodded, biting her lip and looking at Granny cautiously. “Yeah, he's with me,” she said quietly. “Would you mind if we used one of the booths to, uh, talk some things out?”

“Do what you need to do,” Granny said gently to Belle, looking at Rumple less than kindly. “I’ll bring you your regular,” she said, hustling towards the kitchen and away from the haggard looking couple.

 

Rumplestiltskin was standing just behind Belle, nervously looking everywhere but at her. She motioned to their old usual booth, and he sat across from her, folding his hands in front of her. He looked different somehow, actually showing fear instead of a cool masquerade. His cane was resting on the side of the table and he kept looking at it, as if he was afraid it would fall.

She was afraid of falling, too, but differently than he was.

They sat in silence, listening to the gentle croon of the singer playing on the diner’s radio. Rumple cleared his throat, looking down at his hands. “What you said back there, Belle, about it never being too late, did you mean-”

“I don't know,” she cut him off, words spilling from her mouth. “I don't know anything, Rumple. I know you were here with three witches, and then you were in a coma, and Emma became the Dark One, and I went to Camelot but I don't _remember_ Camelot, and now you’re awake but you're different somehow, and then there's a _bear_ that was sent to _kill me_ , then you pull Excalibur from a stone in Emma’s _basement_ \- you can't ask me what I meant, because I haven't quite got it figured out yet.”

He stared at her, and her back at him.  “That's fair,” he said quietly. He opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, Granny arrived. She set a steaming cup of coffee in front of Belle, and after a hard stare at Rumple, she set a cup down in front of him, then marched back to her kitchen. Belle was certain her fill-in guardian would use her wolf-like hearing to get the details of whatever conversation followed.

She took a sip of the coffee, and he smirked at her. “Don't you need more cream and sugar?” he asked, reaching his hand towards the colorful packets on the end of the table.

Belle shrugged, taking a long sip and ignoring the white packet he pushed her way. “Things change,” she said as she put the mug down, keeping her hands around it for warmth. She hadn’t realized how cold it was until the hot liquid was running through her body, and she clung to feeling something at all. It had been easy lately to throw herself into finding the potion to wake Rumple up, to finding the ingredients, to researching all the things things people asked her to. It kept her busy, it helped her avoid thinking about the person she was trying to rescue and all the hurt attached to his name.

It was silent again, but Belle didn’t know where to begin in talking to him. She’d imagined what she would say to him, of course, but it had always been in the shop when the rose bloomed and she’d hug him and then they’d sit down and everything would come together and for once, maybe make sense.

But nothing ever went how Belle wanted it to go. She’d never been a hero, her marriage had failed, and now a new Dark One was threatening her very existence. It was exhausting, and above all else, Belle wanted to sleep a full night without waking up to a tear-stained pillow or telling herself that _it had just been a dream_. She wanted everything to be peaceful, and quiet, and loud, but a good kind of loud, and to smile and laugh and to love and be loved in return.

That had never happened with Rumplestiltskin.

            It could’ve, but their life together hadn’t been enough for him. It never was. Why should she think that now, just because his heart had been wiped clean of the Dark Curse, that that would change? She was setting herself up to hurt again and it hurt Belle to breath when she thought about it.

            She loved him. Belle knew she would always love him, it wasn’t something she could get rid of, no matter how much she wanted to.

            “Belle,” Rumple said softly, startling her from her thoughts. “Ex-excuse me, but why are we here, together, if you don’t want to try talking?”

            Belle shrugged. “Guess I’m just scared of what will be said.”

            “I guess we agree on that,” he said, smiling for a moment. “I guess… I’ll ask the first question, if that’s alright.”

            Belle nodded, staring at him levelly.

            “Why are you here?” he asked carefully. “You didn’t have to ask me to come here with you. This means you… must still care, to a degree.”

            She almost laughed. “Because I love you, Rumple. I always have. You know that,” she said softly, hopelessly.

            A glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes, and she shook her head. “But love, sometimes… it isn’t enough. I think I’m learning that.”

            He took a deep breath. “I see, but I’ve changed, Belle, I pulled Excalibur from the stone-”

            “Yeah,” Belle said, cutting him off, raising her hand to stop him, shaking her head again. “I was there. I’m still processing it. I don’t know what that means, aside from the fact that Emma has one more thing crossed off her evil plan list. I’m happy you’re alive, Rumple, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you weren’t. I just don’t know where we go from here.”

            He took a deep breath, nodded. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, I would understand.”

            “I just don’t think it’ll work like that. I can’t just let you go, don’t you see that? Too much has happened. But I can’t not remember all the times you’ve hurt me, all the times we’ve hurt each other,” Belle said sadly, her voice shaking. She was rubbing the spot on her finger her wedding ring used to go, remembering the anguish she felt when she ripped it after that horrible nightmare of a real-life event at the townline. They were destined to be together, but it would take a lot of healing.

            “What are you saying?” Rumple asked. “I don’t understand.”

            “I guess…” Belle said, looking out the window at the trees, shaking in the wind of a freak storm. “I guess I have to heal. And you do, too. And we need to do that separately before we do it together. No romance, no promises, just honesty whenever we talk. Just two people, who happen to have a… complicated history, working out their issues.”

            “I can do that,” he said with a wry smile.

            “And you can’t think this will end in us being anything more than two people who know each other too well,” Belle said, and his slight smile disappeared. He looked desolate, and she felt another piece of her heart be chipped away. She suddenly felt exhausted, like they’d been sitting there forever, saying words but still not saying anything at all. Her cup of coffee was now empty, and she wiped at the lipstick stain on the rim with a napkin.

            “I think we’re done for the night,” Belle said quietly, setting down the napkin and pulling her phone out of her purse. “I’m going to spend the night at the library apartment, the house is free for you.”

She had six missed calls from Regina, two from Mary Margaret, a text from Henry, and a missed video call from David. Listening to the first voice mail to load, she figured out that the crew needed her to research something as they raced to figure out Emma’s full plan before it came to be. Gathering her things in her bags, Rumplestiltskin gave her a strange look she couldn’t identify.

            “What?” she asked, throwing change on the table for Granny and walking towards the door.

            “Still doing whatever the so-called heroes ask of you?”

            Belle’s eyes flared. “Yes, of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

            “They never thank you,” he said bluntly. “There is no reason for you to help them.”

            She took a deep breath, stepping back towards him. “You think I don’t know that? You think I do this for thanks? I do what people want me to because I’m a nice person, not because I have an ulterior motive or some constant desire to make deals and help myself. It’s the only damn thing I’m good for this town and I know that, so I’m going to do it.”

            She turned away from him, then looked back, anger not hidden in her eyes. “I am just a woman who is trying to find her worth, and I don’t need you  back in my life just to question me..”

            Belle didn’t look back after that, despite him calling for her to come back, her heels clipping sharply on the tiled diner floor. She felt the hot tears rush down her face as she foolishly walked straight out into the storm without an umbrella. It felt like a physical manifestation of her life.

            She’d check with Henry in the morning to make sure the stories in his books of characters that had good hearts and loud minds and tangled storylines always got happy endings.

_Part V: There_

            He hit the side of the machine, impatiently waiting for it to dispense coffee into the cup he’d put under the spout. Rumplestiltskin glanced around, wondering if anyone would notice if he hexed the machine into working -

            “No magic in the hospital,” Dr. Whale said crisply, walking past Rumplestiltskin and into a patient’s room.

            “Of course,” Rumple muttered, beginning to turn away, when he heard the tell-tale sputtering of the hospital’s ancient coffee machine. He looked back, grabbing the cup and sneaking by the nurses’ station, grabbing sugar packets and a handful of creamers. One of the nurses narrowed her eyes at him, but he had two very important people waiting on him.

            Opening Belle’s room’s door quickly, he saw her sitting in bed, their newborn daughter in her arms. “Hi,” she said softly, not looking away from her small face. “I feel like you’ve been gone forever.”

            “The coffee machine here - it’s abysmal,” he said, sitting down at the chair next to her bed. “How are you, darling?”

            She glanced over at him, honest exhaustion and pure contentment written on her face at the same time. “I’m wonderful,” she whispered. “Better now that I can have caffeine again.”

            The baby fussed, and they both stopped talking to look at her, Belle gently caressing her face. “We’re going to need a lot of caffeine with you, aren’t we, little one?” she said, laughing.

            “It’ll be worth it,” Rumple said, leaning in and kissing her temple.

            “Here,” she said, leaning to hand him the baby, and he took his daughter, her tiny, sleepy form easily transferring to his arms. It was the most breathtaking moment of his life, equal to the first time he held his son, beautiful and overwhelming, and for the first time in months, he felt at peace.

            “We made that,” Belle said, sipping her coffee and looking at him with love in her eyes.

            “Yes, we did,” he said, “and she’s beautiful.”

            It had taken months of talking, working out their problems, but eventually, finally, their broken pieces fit together again. Her pregnancy had been a surprise, but the happiest surprise he could’ve ever imagined. This little girl would always be surrounded by abundant love.

            Belle and Rumplestiltskin were finally home.


End file.
